diversity is a beautiful thing
by genuinemermaid
Summary: Drabbles on anything and everything, all depending on what I feel like writing and when. T because I'm unpredictable.
1. conversion

**DRABBLE 01**

_{conversion}_

**characters: **rachel elizabeth dare; apollo

**genre: **humor; {not romance}

**rating: **k {nothing harmful. i think.}

**word count: **609

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**A/N: I'm not actually sure as to whether or not Harvard University offers a Theology elective. But I tried. **_**Bear with me. **_

_**

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**_

"Knock, knock."

Apollo appeared in Rachel's bedroom as if by magic – which she knew was bogus. All he really had to do was think himself there, and that was only because he was a god. He hardly seemed to have enough brain cells to be able to comprehend _magic_.

"Yes," Rachel sighed from where she lay, sprawled out across her bed, "because _saying _the word 'knock' in a rhythmic fashion completely gives the illusion that you _actually _knocked." Two years ago, Rachel Dare would have been surprised at her nerve. Apollo was an _Olympian_; it was aptly frowned upon to insult one. But after having spent two years in the service of the sun god as his dear Oracle, the annoyed remarks were expected.

Apollo flashed a playful grin. "Thought I'd drop by and see how you were." He squinted as, for the first time, he noticed an array of books surrounding her, all of them opened to random pages. The eight-point font hurt his eyes, and as he hastily flipped them closed – not without complaint from his Oracle – he noted the titles: _Catechism of the Catholic Church, The Protestant Reformation, _and _Islam for Dummies. _

"Um – schoolwork, or something?" he guessed. Rachel rolled her eyes.

"No, my lord – I'm thinking of converting." Her sarcasm did not transfer immediately, but when it did, Apollo chuckled.

"You are so very much like Artemis that it's amusing," he pointed out.

Rachel lifted an eyebrow. "I'll take that as a compliment, then. Anyway, I'm starting college in less than a month, and World Religions is one of my father's _choice _electives for me – apparently if you can compliment a client's religion or something, it'll get you further in life." Apollo furrowed his brow.

"So…if you wish some Jewish businessman a Happy Hanukkah or something, he'll buy your…um, what does your father do again, exactly?" Rachel sighed.

"He makes his profits buying and selling land, remember?" she answered. "But whatever. It's not _him _that matters. Maybe if I take this class I'll seem…I don't know, normal? Like, maybe someone who doesn't worship ancient Greek deities. By the way, I'm not actually sure Greek Mythology is classified as a religion anymore."

"Hellenistic Paganism, I think," Apollo corrected.

"_Hmm_ – of course you would know that." She considered for a moment. "So would it sound too weird if I actually called myself a _Hellenistic Pagan_?"

"Go for it," Apollo suggested. "Diversity is always a beautiful thing." Rachel snorted.

"Nah, I'll pass," she decided. "My dad would have a cow. And besides, I'm not sure that's the kind of diversity they're looking for – prestigious universities like Harvard tend to cater to the sensible." Apollo's eyes widened.

"_You _got into _Harvard_?" he demanded. "Jeez, Rachel. I didn't even know you were applying!"

"Yeah, thanks for hiding your surprise," Rachel muttered. "And I don't know why you really _would _expect me to be looking at Harvard. I've only been decked out in Harvard merchandise from the time I could walk."

"But – it – that's amazing, Rachel! Which program?"

Rachel gestured to the dozens of used canvases behind her. "Arts and Culture. What else?"

"But I thought your dad didn't approve of your knack for painting."

She shrugged. "He doesn't. He never did. But he doesn't care, because I got into Harvard University. I think maybe he's hoping I'll change my mind and switch majors."

"And that will happen - "

" – never."

"Well, I suppose congratulations are in order," Apollo said. He smirked. "Where's the liquor?"

"Leave, Apollo."

"Oh, but the party hasn't started yet," the god whined. Rachel narrowed her eyes.

"Out."

"But Rachel - "

"I swear, I'll convert."


	2. turncoat

**DRABBLE 02**

_{turncoat}_

**characters: **silena beauregard; mentions of luke castellan

**genre: **angst

**rating: **k+

**word count: **234  


* * *

She had vibrant red blood on her hands – the guilt that was the result of her actions. She could see it, so why couldn't everyone else?

Oh. _Right_.

She was cloaked in darkness. No one would ever know that she'd done anything wrong…until it was too late.

Luke had promised her that no one would be hurt – that she'd be the _lifesaver. _It would all be for the best. Slowly, his lie became painstakingly apparent to her.

Everyone would die, because everyone would be at the mercy of the Titan lord Kronos. He'd tricked her. He'd _used _her. And now, everyone was going to hate her.

Of course she had to tell them. Didn't she? She felt like it was her sole responsibility. But she remembered that leaking the truth increased everyone's misery by a thousand-fold – obviously, from realizing they had a _traitor _on their hands (that blunt word went horribly with _beauty_), but also because Luke Castellan would be outraged, seeing it fit to take it out on all of her friends.

She was alone.

Every time she smiled, laughed, or joked, she felt herself become hollower inside. It was an empty feeling, like nothing she did was real anymore – like every move she made was to the advantage of the enemy. For the first time in her life, Silena Beauregard felt like an outcast.

If she didn't belong here…where did she belong?


	3. pride before fall

**DRABBLE 03**

_{pride before fall}_

**characters: **annabeth chase; lindsay {minor oc}

**genre: **humor

**rating: **k

**word count: **468

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**A/N: Forgive me, for I raped the italics. :P**

**

* * *

**She always, _always _had a plan. She was a _daughter _of _Athena, _for Olympus' sake – of course she possessed not only the knowledge and wit required to carry out even the most complex of plans, but also the wisdom granted to her by her very mother. Bravery coursed through her like the blood in her veins, and she would never turn down a challenge.

And yet, when a spider came crawling at her from one of the overcrowded bookshelves in the Athena cabin, she squealed like a little girl.

"Oh my gods!" she yelped. She recoiled at the sight of it – huge, round midsection and a rather small, out-of-place head; eight spindly, hairy legs (four on each side), and eight dead black eyes watching her perversely, refusing to free her from its sight. _Ew._

"Annabeth, what are you – _ohmyfreakinggod, SPIDER_!"

Her half-sister Lindsay had come to investigate, only to stumble into Annabeth immediately. Annabeth toppled forward, tackling the bookcase. It fell over, landing with a loud _thud _on the floor. Books, maps, and blueprints scattered everywhere.

_"Lindsay!" _Annabeth hissed. "Why did you do that? Now that…_thing _could be anywhere!" Lindsay whimpered.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled from where she stood cowering behind Annabeth. "It just took me by surprise."

"Well, _where is it now_?" Annabeth demanded irritably. She shivered. That disgusting thing…

"Don't say that!" Lindsay cried. Annabeth huffed and freed Lindsay's hands from her shoulders.

"Move," Annabeth instructed. As Lindsay obliged, Annabeth examined the mess of books and papers. She backed up slowly, as if not wanting to disturb the little monster, wherever it lay.

Another step backwards. No sign of the beastly arachnid. Yet another step – still no spider. Annabeth felt relief overcome her at the thought that the spider might have been crushed under the weight of the bookshelf. A step backwards – and a loud _crunch_.

She'd always wondered what it would sound like if a spider's fragile exoskeleton were crushed. She lifted her tennis shoe…and retched as she recognized the now in-pieces spider, different sections of its hairy body separated and only connected by strings of what she could only describe as yellowish guck.

Lindsay stood gaping beside her. "Annabeth…_oh my gods._"

"I – I know," Annabeth choked. "It's…_touching me_. Kind of." She removed her tennis shoe hastily and sent it flying across the room. It slammed into the wall and fell harmlessly to the floor.

"No – Annabeth, you killed it!" Lindsay cried. Annabeth considered that, and suddenly felt pride seeping into her features.

"You're right," she murmured. "Holy _Athena_, I actually _murdered _that thing!" She grinned triumphantly, but her smile melted away as Lindsay's expression became one of terror. Her eyes were focused on something not far behind Annabeth.

"Oh, no," she groaned. "It had _family. _Do you think you could do that seven more times?"

But Annabeth was long gone before she'd even finished that thought. Pride comes before a fall (but she didn't want to stick around for the falling part).


	4. searching

**DRABBLE 04**

_{searching}_

**characters: **annabeth chase; mentions of percy jackson and hera

**genre: **general; _slight _romance and friendship {i guess}

**rating: **T {..CURSING} you've been warned.

**word count: **404

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**A/N: Yes, I have - again - raped the italics. WARNING: this drabble **_**does **_**take place in mid-The Lost Hero. If you do not want SPOILERS, please do not read. You have been forewarned, my friends.**

**ALSO. I do not really consider this Percabeth, but hey - if that's your cup of tea, then I suppose if you squint really, really hard, tilt your head to the right, and concentrate, it's there.**

**

* * *

**So that's it then - she's lost her sanity. She's gone _completely insane _with worry. There's no regaining the composure she once had, unless of course her problem is solved, which is highly unlikely because the gods have _never _been able to cut her a fucking break and - surprise, surprise - won't start now.

She doesn't see what Hera wants with Percy Jackson. She cannot decode the Queen of the Heaven's actions - and she knows because she's damn well tried. So there's only one thing left to do, and that's _just keep looking. _He could be anywhere.

_Anywhere_. With that one word, Annabeth's sure that her attempts are futile. They're all in vain. Because Percy Jackson could be anywhere in this world. Percy Jackson could be anywhere _underwater._ _Percy Jackson _could have landed himself in another dimension, because - wait for it - the _freaking _gods can do that kind of stuff.

And upon realizing this, she has a question.

_Why can't she stop looking?_

It isn't a rhetorical question because she knows the answer.

She may be one-hundred percent mortal. She may lack special powers and abilities that the gods can summon with a flick of their wrists. There is nothing godlike about her. She's _not _omnipotent. She _can't _be everywhere all at once. There's no way she'll be able to scour the entire Earth, even if she's given a lifetime to find Percy.

But she's a daughter of Athena, gods damn it. She knows the most logical starting points. She can _oh-so _simply wrap her mind around the idea of _an-y-where_. She can give her best effort and manage to achieve some part of her goal, however miniscule. She's got the determination and the pride - the _hubris_ - of the goddess of wisdom herself.

_She. Can. Not. Give. Up._

She cannot surrender to hunger and thirst and fatigue and _second thoughts_. She must keep moving. It's all she can do.

Because even though she can't find Hera herself and free her from her damn imprisonment and _demand _the whereabouts of her best friend (and boyfriend), she can't sit back and let someone else do all of the dirty work.

_If she can't do it, then no-one can._

So why can't she stop looking?

It all comes down to this.

Because _he _would do the same for her. _He _would look for her, and _she _has to look for him.


	5. rejection

**DRABBLE 05**

_{rejection}_

**characters: **rachel elizabeth dare; will solace

**genre: **humor; slight romance {onesided!rachel/will}

**rating: **t

**word count: **954

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**A/N: Hah, I'm kind of proud of myself for conjuring up this weird pairing that I'd never even considered before. I mean, face it - eventually the children of Apollo will act as Apollo himself, am I right? **

**1. I don't know if Will's full name is William. It's an assumption, because there was no information on it.**

**2. I have access to none of the books, seeing as I lent all of them to friends.. I do not know if the attic at CHB opens with a door, or a trap door, or what. So I made it a door. Deal.**

**3. Rachel is sixteen, Will is nineteen. I guess it's better than RachelNico, yes?  


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**

She was glad she'd argued with her dad enough times to quickly and tactfully slam and lock a door, and she leaned, breathlessly, against the shabby piece of wood that was now her only protection from the pursuer that was knocking roughly from the other side. "Come on, Rachel - open up," came Will Solace's playful voice, and Rachel rolled her eyes while giving the door a nice, forceful kick with her heel.

"_Hell _no," she snapped. "Go away, Will. You're getting nowhere trying to flirt with me." She could hear Will's half-serious snort.

"You call what I'm doing right now _flirting?" _he asked, chuckling. "Oh, no. First I have to get you to talk to me face-to-face. That's when the flirting starts." She huffed.

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but that's not going to be happening anytime soon," she said. "Now if you wouldn't mind leaving me the hell alone, I'd appreciate it."

"Why?" Will asked. "Afraid of a little friendly talk?"

"As _tempting _as that sounds," the defiant redhead began sarcastically, "I've got better and more important things to do. Sorry, Will." She waited, hoping he'd give up and leave her be - but it was wishful thinking, as always.

"Important things?" he repeated. "Oh? Like what?" Rachel smirked.

"Oh, gee, Will - I don't know!" she replied, mock-enthusiasm applied heavily. "It's just the little things, you know? Clipping coupons, doing laundry - remaining Apollo's most sacred _virgin _Oracle of Delphi…"

"Whoa now," Will protested, "I didn't say anything about taking your virginity." A brief pause, then a snicker she knew all too well - like father, like son. "At least, not on the first date, or anything." She visualized his smug smile and groaned.

"You _pervert!" _she complained. "My _gods_, you're exactly like your father."

"Hmm," Will Solace hummed thoughtfully. "Well thanks, doll."

"My name is Rachel."

"Rachel doll."

"_Ugh." _

She reluctantly wrenched open the door and glared at him. He grinned goofily and took a step forward, resulting in Rachel inching the door closer to its frame. Will sighed, held his hands up in surrender, and backed away.

"Okay, okay," he sighed. "Whatever. Just let me take you out or something. It would be _fun." _

"We're confined to Camp Half Blood, dumb-ass," she reminded him. "Where were you planning on taking me?" He considered this for a moment.

"Eh, whatever, I'll figure something out," he muttered. Suddenly, his face lightened. _"Hey," _he said, wonderingly.

"Um…hi?"

"No, Rachel doll," Will said happily, much to the mortal's annoyance, "not _hey _like _hello_ - _hey _like _hey, you stopped telling me no and were actually curious as to what one of our dates might be like!" _

"What? No! _Ew, _oh god no!" Rachel Dare sputtered, her green orbs widened in disgust. "Leave, William."

"But I - "

"Goodbye, William."

He cursed under his breath. "By the Styx! Why are you so damn persistent?"

Rachel flashed a sickly-sweet smile. "Huh, that's funny! I was _so _just about to ask you the same thing." Will winked.

"Touché."

"_Touché," _she repeated in annoyance. "You know what, Will? I will gladly kick _your _touché if you aren't out of here in about five seconds."

"Sounds painful," Will noted with a brief grimace that was soon replaced by the rambunctious smile he shared with his father. "I mean, fun and everything - but painful."

"I'll show you just how excruciatingly painful it can be if you don't leave. Now."

"But my work here isn't done," he said, staring at her as if it were obvious.

Rachel slammed her palm against her freckled forehead, then heaved a heavy sigh and glared at the son of Apollo. _"What, _Will, what? I already _told _you I wouldn't date you - though it doesn't seem it has made its way through your thick skull yet - and now there's nothing else left for you to say. It's called _rejection_, Will. Everyone faces it sooner or la - _mmph!" _

With Will Solace's smooth lips against her chapped ones, Rachel froze, unable to move or even think straight. Will's arms snaked around her waist, but she didn't respond. She sat in uncomfortable silence and waited for the kiss to end. It wasn't necessarily that Will was a bad kisser. He'd certainly inherited some _skills _from his father Apollo - but that was what made it awkward. With Will's lips pressed to hers, she couldn't help but imagine kissing the sun god - that nuisance, that airhead, and that arrogant deity - and retched inwardly.

Will completely misconceived her lack of refusal. Sure, she may not have been kissing him back, but the fact that she didn't pull away was enough to make him grin against her lips and deepen the kiss. It seemed like an eternity to her before it finally ended, and not in a welcome way. Eventually though, she found herself able to lay her palms against his shoulders and gently nudge him away, and as the kiss was broken, she smiled.

"Will?" she said softly.

Will smiled down at her, toying with one of her red pieces of frizz. "Yeah?" he asked.

She elevated herself onto her tiptoes (perhaps her mother had been right and those weekly ballet lessons _had _paid off), and Will, standing at six foot tall, assisted her by leaning downward. But Rachel didn't go for his lips, as he'd expected. Instead, with only his broad shoulders holding her steady, she whispered in his ear. _"Run." _

She dropped to her natural height and watched him expectantly, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. His eyes widened in disbelief.

And then he took off down the stairs, leaving her smirking and wiping his taste off of her lips.

* * *

**End Note: Heh. They entertain me.**

**-Chelsea  
**


	6. shadows

**DRABBLE 06**

_{shadows}_

**characters: **thalia grace; luke castellan; annabeth chase

**genre: **general

**rating: **k

**word count: **506  


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**A/N: I've written a ton of these little prompted drabble things. God knows when I'll publish them all. **  


* * *

Thalia purses her lips, turning to Luke and whispering (for fear of waking the sleeping Annabeth she's been carrying on her back), "I'm not sure about this place."

The son of Hermes lifts a sandy eyebrow, taking a few steps back into the vacant warehouse. "Why not?" he inquires - and when he forgets to lower his voice, Thalia shoots him a look that corrects him quickly. "Sorry. What's wrong with here?" he whispers questioningly.

He means to stay, of course. They'll need a place to sleep that's better than the bridges and bushes they've recently inhabited. But Thalia senses there's something…eerie about this place. And she's worn out and completely drained and isn't ready to fight any more monsters right about now.

"There's something weird about it," she says simply. She shifts her weight and Annabeth stirs, but Thalia uses her free hand to gently brush a blond curl out of the sleeping child's eyes and she cuddles right back into the nape of Thalia's neck. "I mean, don't you think it's just a little _too _convenient?"

Luke frowns, and part of him agrees with his friend. How lucky could they get? They've only just found an abandoned warehouse - in good condition nonetheless - in a vacant, wooded area, with no police or search teams around for miles. Usually, something quite this good only happens for a group of demigods if it is really just a cleverly-hidden plot to lure them to their deaths.

"You have a point," he agrees. _"But - " _Thalia groans softly, and Luke flashes that infamous, mischievous Hermes smile. _"But_, we're all tired, and if there are monsters here…well, they're here, then. It's not like we can't fight them off, right? And besides, I don't think the kid's in any condition to be traveling the gods know how many more miles."

Thalia casts a sideways glance at Annabeth and sighs in defeat. "Fine, you're right," she admits.

So Luke leads the way, and after a few minutes he finds a few lanterns and _somehow _lights them - Thalia only wishes to be able to understand the Hermes child's mind - and there are three piles of leaves that will have to do as beds for now. Thalia lays Annabeth on one - the largest, the plumpest, and the closest to the fire - and takes the one to the left of it. Luke is on her left, playing with a pocketknife he stole from Wal-Mart. When Thalia's almost asleep, a sudden movement catches her attention and she jumps up, glaring into…nowhere.

Luke chuckles. "It's your shadow, Thalia. Relax."

Thalia's confused, but only until she sees the shadows that are being cast by the fire on the far wall. She sighs and lands on her butt in the makeshift, leafy bed, only trying for sleep when the fire has died out and Luke is working to fix it, cursing under his breath - she does her best to fall asleep before he's finished, so that the shadows don't distract her.


	7. royalty

**DRABBLE 07**

_{royalty}_

**characters: **annabeth chase; percy jackson

**genre: **humor; and, ah, what the hell – romance

**rating: **t

**word count: **564

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**A/N: I couldn't resist – it was just begging to be written.  
**

* * *

"So then he married his mother-"

"Ew, _why_?"

Annabeth sighed, giving her boyfriend a hard stare. "Because, Percy. He didn't _know_ Jocasta was his mother. Oedipus was adopted by the king and queen of Corinth, remember?"

"Oh. Right," Percy said, even though his head was swimming. "But wasn't he smart enough not to marry some random queen just because everyone wanted him to?"

"Well, if someone offered _you_ kingship, would you turn him or her down?" Annabeth asked him pointedly. She propped herself up against Thalia's tree with her hands behind her head. Maybe agreeing to teach Percy everything there was to know about the Greek "myths" wasn't the best idea...

"Well, yeah," Percy murmured thoughtfully. "I guess that's true. But still, wouldn't he bear some resemblance to that Jacinta lady?"

"You mean _Jocasta_," Annabeth corrected. "And perhaps. But honestly, Percy, I'm not sure Oedipus was wary of every woman, just in case she might be his mother."

Percy nodded in understanding - or something close enough to it - and the pair lapsed into a moment of comfortable silence. Annabeth sighed and turned her eyes down to her binder, prepared to recount the rest of Oedipus' story to Percy, when he suddenly spoke again.

"Didn't those people want to make Oedipus king because he, like, solved the sphinx's riddle, and it killed itself?" he asked, somewhat absently. Annabeth looked up and squinted her gray eyes.

"Yeah," she answered, without even having to skim through the several page long book-o-myths resting on her lap. "They considered him a great hero."

"You solved the sphinx's riddle, once," Percy noted, picking at a blade of grass. "In the labyrinth."

Annabeth laughed lightly, recalling that eventful summer before the war. Everything had seemed so overwhelming then, but compared to what happened the following summer, getting utterly lost in an underground system of tunnels seemed like a desirable vacation.

"Oh yeah, I remember," she replied. "And then she like, quizzed me. It was completely uncalled for."

"You knew all of the answers," Percy pointed out, eyeing her from where he sat with his back to the old farm road.

"Hmm," Annabeth hummed, not sure how else to respond. She didn't want to brag in front of Percy, but she wasn't necessarily modest, either.

"So, if you answered the sphinx's dumb question correctly, how come no one wanted to make _you_ a queen?"

Annabeth's head snapped upward. "Because they'd make me marry my _father_," she commented drily.

Percy laughed. "So you could be queen of what? Airplane models?"

Annabeth shot him a playful glare. "Anyway, I've already got my eyes set on a _different_ prince..."

She flashed Percy a flirty glance, batting her eyelashes uncharacteristically. Percy's breath hitched in his throat at the sight of her blond curls being caught by the sunlight.

He drew himself closer to her and whispered, "And who might that be?"

Annabeth gave him a satisfied smirk, resting her forehead against his. Then, all too soon, she pulled away, snapped her binder closed, and jumped to her feet.

She flashed her boyfriend one last teasing glance, turned to walk away, then called over her shoulder in a sarcastic tone, "Grover."

Percy watched her stroll away, stunned, then found his voice and protested, "Oh, _come on_! That wasn't even funny!"

He hopped to his feet and scurried after her, all thoughts of creepy incestuous marriage left behind.


End file.
